Noblesse Oblige
by topazchild
Summary: Arthur and his companions receive help from an unexpected source when they again tangle with a gryphon.
1. Chapter 1

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.**

Noblesse Oblige

It was unfortunate that Arthur's very bad mood coincided with his manservant's need to request a favor. The dark-haired young man rarely asked for anything from the prince so he figured he was due. His optimism proved premature.

"Rise and shine, Sire," Merlin said in his usual chipper manner as he pulled back the curtains from around Arthur's bed. The prince grumbled something under his breath. He did not want to get up. His day ahead was to consist of long council meetings alongside his father. Yuk. When he finally crawled out of bed, his body felt stiff and achy from training some new recruits the previous day. One young man in particular, son of an impoverished noble, had connected several times with Arthur's body. What the young man lacked in finesse, he made up for in brute strength. Arthur looked at his ribs. There was some multicolor bruising. Some purple, blue, green, yellow. In addition, his wrist hurt. He thought he remembered falling on it. Arthur was in a sour frame of mind. He had had a crappy day yesterday and an equally crappy day to look forward to today.

"If you could do without me for a few days, Arthur, I would like to visit my mother in Ealdor."

Being reminded that his manservant had a mother whom he could visit and who loved him, and that he, Arthur, a royal prince who lived in a castle, did not, was pretty much the last straw.

"No, you may _not _leave, Merlin. And yes, I do require your presence and your assistance as woefully inadequate as they may be."

"It would just be for a few days."

"I don't care. No!" Arthur was actually yelling to Merlin's annoyance.

"When do I ever ask you for anything? Why can't you let me have this one small request?" Merlin's good mood had evaporated. It was with difficulty that he resisted the urge to dump wine all over the prince's head.

"You are merely a servant, Merlin. I don't owe you any explanation," Arthur said in a haughty tone.

"You are such a prat."

"Careful, Merlin, or you'll spend the rest of the day in the stocks."

Merlin shut his mouth, fuming. He finished the rest of his chores in dead silence.

"Will that be all, Sire?" Merlin asked, stiffly.

"Yes." Arthur did in fact have a long list of additional chores for Merlin, but he was too busy mentally kicking himself to vocalize them. Despite appearances, Arthur cared what his servant thought about him, and he was honest enough with himself to realize he'd been unfair. It was true that Merlin rarely asked him for personal favors. He watched the young man walk to the door and leave. Well, that tore it. One more thing in his life that wasn't working right.

Arthur needed to think of an excuse to follow Merlin and casually reverse his decision on his servant's request. What reason could he have to follow the young man and visit Gaius' quarters? His ribs were bruised but not much one could do for bruises. They faded with time. His wrist hurt, but he knew it wasn't broken. Wait. It _was _sprained. And it looked a little swollen. He could play it up a bit. It would have to do.

Merlin was sitting at the table sulking and half listening as Gaius was flipping through a book on herbal remedies and reading a few sentences here and there. "Sage was used by the ancient Egyptians to cleanse wounds and stop bleeding."

Arthur entered the room quietly and stood watching them before the two became aware of his presence. Gaius noticed the sudden tension between Merlin and the prince.

"Good morning, Sire," Gaius said. "What can we do for you?"

"He's thought of a long list of chores for me," Merlin said, grumpily.

"I came to see Gaius," Arthur said, coldly.

"Certainly, Arthur. Here, sit down." The physician cleared a few things off a bench.

Arthur was cradling his right wrist in his other hand. "I hurt my wrist yesterday." Here Arthur allowed himself a small grimace. "I don't think it's broken."

"You said nothing this morning about - ," Merlin began.

"Merlin." Gaius gave him a look. "Bring me a pan of cold water and a clean cloth."

The elderly physician gently prodded Arthur's wrist. Arthur thought a small moan would be appropriate. Oops, he may have overplayed it. Both Gaius and Merlin were starting to give him odd looks.

The physician and the warlock had seen the intrepid prince at death's door more times than they cared to remember. The bite from the Questing Beast had nearly killed him. And now he was being all dramatic over a mildly sprained wrist? It was deuced odd was what it was.

Gaius rolled Arthur's sleeve up further. He studied the prince as he did so. Arthur disliked being fussed over and yet he sat there patiently. The physician plucked the cloth from the pan of cold water and wrung out some of the excess water. He wrapped it around the young man's injured wrist as a cold compress. Ordinarily he would have assigned that task to Merlin but since the two seemed to be at daggers drawn, he chose to do it himself.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Thank you, Gaius. It feels much better." He busied himself plucking at the damp cloth. "Uh, Merlin, how long did you say your visit to Hunith would be?'

Merlin was caught by surprise and did not immediately answer. Arthur looked up at him and waited.

"A few days. Just a few days."

"I will have someone assigned to cover your duties until you return." Arthur got up to leave.

"Thank you." Merlin was looking less sulky by the minute.

Gaius waited until the prince had departed before he commented. "Well, that would explain that little scene," he said with a laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Merlin crept stealthily through the trees, edging closer to the campsite. Were he awake to see it, Arthur would not have recognized his clumsy, awkward manservant, so silently did he move. Lancelot, on sentry duty, sat drowsing against a tree. Merlin, with a quick look at the sleeping figures of Gwaine and Arthur, moved into Lancelot's line of vision.

"Psst!" Merlin whispered. Lancelot's head jerked up, his hand fumbling for a knife. Merlin made a calming motion with his hands then put his finger to his lips. Lance hastily got to his feet and moved closer to the warlock. Though the two men had made little noise, Arthur sighed and stirred in his sleep, one hand rubbing across his cheek.

Merlin turned toward the prince and murmured, "_Swefe nu_," his eyes flashing gold. Arthur's hand slipped from his face, and he fell into a deeper sleep. With a quick glance at Gwaine, Merlin and Lancelot walked a little ways out of camp.

"Why is Arthur following me to Ealdor?" Merlin asked, a note of petulance creeping into his voice.

"He's not. Well, not really. After you left this morning, one of the elders from your village showed up to petition the king. Ealdor is under attack by a gryphon."

"Is my mother all right?" Merlin asked, with sudden anxiety.

"Yes, don't worry about that. And no one's been killed." The word _yet _was unspoken but hung in the air between the two men.

"Uther would never allow Arthur to come," Merlin said, puzzled. "He knows Ealdor is on King Cenred's lands."

"Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your viewpoint," Lance replied, "the gryphon has also been attacking villages on our side of the boundary."

"Aah."

"That gave Arthur some wiggle room with the king. Gwaine told me Arthur was fed up with the long hours sitting in council with his father and jumped at the chance for some action. This gave him the perfect excuse."

At the campsite, Gwaine had woken up in time to see Merlin and Lancelot walking off. "Arthur?" Gwaine hissed, in a whisper. "You awake?" There was no response from the slumbering prince. Gwaine crawled over on his hands and knees to give Arthur's shoulder a gentle shake. "Arthur. Hey, sleepyhead." Gwaine shook him harder. There was nothing but the steady rise and fall of his chest. Unable to rouse the prince, Gwaine felt faintly alarmed. What the hell was going on?

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"Shh." A faint animal cry of distress was heard from deeper in the forest. Lancelot put his arm out to stop Merlin. "Do you hear that? It sounds like an animal of some kind."

"Whatever it is, it doesn't sound happy," Merlin replied.

The knight and the warlock walked farther into the woods, following the plaintive cries. Though the sky was inky black, faint starlight and a sliver of a moon gave enough illumination to set two feline eyes glowing.

"_Fromum feohgiftum on faeder bearme_." A ball of blue light further lit up the darkness.

"Hey, it's a kitten. What's it doing way out here by itself?" Lancelot reached down and picked it up. He was surprised by the weight. The animal weighed at least twenty pounds. "It's heavier than you'd think." It snuggled into the crook of his arm.

Merlin absentmindedly scratched the animal behind the ears. "I don't think this is a good idea." He looked around uneasily. "Maybe you should put him down before something big comes looking -"

Both men were startled by the loud scream of an animal shattering the stillness.

"Arthur." Merlin and Lancelot both voiced the same thought. Merlin realized on the instant that he himself had left Arthur vulnerable. The dark-haired young man took off running, Lancelot following on his heels still carrying the "kitten."

When they reached camp, Gwaine was standing, his sword drawn. He looked at Merlin. "I can't wake up Arthur." Merlin looked guilty then noticed that Lancelot was still holding the animal.

"No, no! What are you thinking? Put it back, put it back!"

It was too late as the screaming sound came closer. Lancelot put the animal down and tried to shoo it away. The animal padded unsteadily back over to him, yowling unhappily. Gwaine and Merlin both felt an irrational urge to laugh. This was cut short when an animal several times larger than a New World cougar bounded into sight. Merlin spared a quick glance at Arthur who was still sleeping peacefully. He murmured a spell of protection around the prince while Gwaine was occupied with the huge beast.

The knight had taken a fighting stance, sword in hand, and prepared to fend off the large animal. With one swipe of its paw, the huge cat sent the sword spinning into the night. Gwaine backed up hastily, tripped over a dead branch, and fell on his backside.

Both Lancelot and Merlin were about to rush to his aid when the large animal, spying her baby, stopped mid-snarl and raced over to her cub.

"You okay, Gwaine?" Lancelot asked, as the fallen knight picked himself up gingerly off the ground.

"I'll live." The three men watched warily as the mother cat nuzzled her cub. She picked it up by the scuff of its neck and, turning, bounded away into the forest. Merlin, Lancelot and Gwaine let out a collective breath.

Merlin caught Lancelot's eye. _Distract him_. The warlock moved closer to where Arthur still lay sleeping. He knelt by the prince and murmured a waking spell. He stood and moved back beside the two knights. A few moments later Arthur stirred and propped himself on one elbow. He eyed the three of them sleepily.

"Merlin, you're here."

"Hi." The dark-haired young man raised one hand.

Arthur studied the three of them a little more closely. "Did I miss something?"

Merlin shook his head. "No, no, nothing."


	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter Three

Merlin had it all planned out. He and Lancelot would team up like they did before. Lance would supply the muscle, and he would add the magic. The gryphon was as good as dead. It was foolproof. All they had to do was ditch Arthur.

"Merlin," said Arthur, "the knights and I will provide you with safe escort to your mother's doorstep. It's too risky for you to travel alone with the gryphon on the loose."

_Drat! _Arthur had to pick now to be solicitous. "I don't need safe escort," Merlin protested. "I can take care of myself."

"Don't argue with me. We're coming."

Merlin sent a look of entreaty in Lancelot's direction. Lance nodded in return. _Okay, I'll give it a shot._

"Arthur, why don't I escort Merlin to his mother's and catch up with you and Gwaine later?"

"It's not open for discussion. I've made my decision," Arthur said, pompously.

Merlin groaned in frustration. The prince meant well, but Merlin still wanted to kick him.

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Dark clouds blew in hiding the sun, and rain began falling as the four rode toward Ealdor. They stopped briefly to don rain gear, Arthur pulling a dark gray cloak from his saddlebag. He drew the hood up over his blonde hair, his features becoming unrecognizable.

A half hour later, they rode through the little village. Few people were about, whether from the rain or the threat of the gryphon, wasn't clear. Arriving at Hunith's cottage, Merlin dismounted first, his companions waiting on horseback.

Merlin knocked on the door. "Mother? Are you home?"

A moment later, Hunith opened the door. "Merlin!" A delighted expression crossed her face, and reaching for her dark-haired son, she pulled him against her. "You've come at last." She kissed him warmly on the cheek. Arthur felt a stab of envy.

Looking past her son, Hunith saw his three companions sitting astride their horses. Although the rain had slowed to a drizzle, the prince had not yet lowered his hood, his features in shadow.

"Merlin, bring your friends inside where it's dry." Everyone dismounted and came inside. "How long can you stay? Can Prince Arthur do without you for a few days?"

There was a brief silence as the young men registered the fact that Hunith had not recognized the prince. Merlin turned and pushed the hood off of Arthur's head.

"I brought him with me as you can see, Mother," Merlin said, smiling.

Momentarily flustered, Hunith dropped a quick little curtsey.

"No need to stand on ceremony," the prince said, disarmingly. "My knights and I came to rid your village of the gryphon."

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An hour later, Merlin was alone with Hunith, the prince and the two knights having left.

"You're going to follow them, aren't you, Son?"

"Yes, I have to. Gaius told me before that the gryphon is a creature of the old religion. Ordinary weapons are useless against it. Arthur is just going to get himself killed."

"Be careful, Merlin. I can see he cares about you, but who knows how he'll react if he sees you have magic."

"I'll be careful, Mother." He embraced her and left.

Elsewhere

The intermittent rain was falling again as the three men stopped at a cottage on the edge of the village. Gwaine dismounted and rapped on the door.

"Yes?" The man who answered was narrow-shouldered with a ruddy complexion and reddish hair. Gwaine could see the man's wife behind him.

"We're here from the king, and we need information." Gwaine did not bother telling the man that they were in fact from King Uther Pendragon and not King Cenred. Let him draw his own conclusions.

The man peered past Gwaine and up at the mounted prince and Sir Lancelot. Arthur was again wearing the dark gray cloak against the weather, the hood covering his blonde hair.

"What do you need to know?" the villager asked, a bit apprehensively.

"Any information you have on the beast that has been plaguing your village and the surrounding countryside."

At this the man looked relieved and invited Sir Gwaine and his companions to alight and come inside out of the falling rain. Gwaine turned and looked a question at Arthur. The prince nodded and swung down from his horse, Lancelot following suit.

Inside, the man pulled a few rough chairs closer to the fire. "You can dry off while we talk."

Gwaine, asking questions, continued to act as spokesman for the companions while Lancelot and Arthur contented themselves with sitting by the fire and listening. Arthur took off the heavy gray cloak, the firelight picking up glints of gold in his hair. Seconds later, the man's wife recognized him as she handed him a tankard of ale.

"Malcolm," she said to her husband, "they're not from King Cenred at all."

"Huh? Why do you say - ?" He turned and met Arthur's blue eyes.

"They're from the Pendragon king," she finished.

"What does it matter what king rids you of a monster," Arthur asked, blandly, "as long as you're rid of it?"

The couple hastened to reassure him. Gwaine asked a few more questions, and the three young men left a scant twenty minutes later.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The three young men did not have to search very hard for the creature. It found them.

The gryphon came flying low through the trees screeching and making a shrill high-pitched sound.

_Merlin, hurry and show up before we all get killed._ Lancelot looked all around for the warlock but failed to see him. _Maybe he's here somewhere, and I just can't see him._

Arthur, nothing loth, rode hurtling toward the terrifying noise, Gwaine not far behind. Some small part of Lance's mind was in awe at Arthur's rash, headlong rush into danger. The larger part was screaming _that thing is going to kill him._ The one quality that Arthur had in spades was courage.

The prince threw his spear at the creature which bounced harmlessly off. The gryphon hit Arthur's horse a glancing blow causing it to somersault onto its side. The prince, lightning fast, pulled his feet from the stirrups and, rolling over, cleared the horse, avoiding its flailing legs.

Gwaine closed, hurling his spear with a similar result. The gryphon flew toward him making its terrifying screeching sounds. His horse panicked and tried to bolt. Gwaine was fighting for control when he was knocked violently off his horse by a gigantic wing. The knight hit the ground hard and lay still.

The gryphon made a tight turn and thundered back toward Arthur now standing with sword drawn. Suddenly Lance heard rapid hoof beats behind him and was relieved to see Merlin appear on his horse. The warlock arrived in time to see the attack on Gwaine and fear for the knight gripped his heart.

Arthur's sword was knocked from his hand before Merlin could strengthen it with magic. The gryphon grabbed the prince with one huge talon and flew up with him through the trees and into the open sky.

_Well, that all went horribly wrong, _thought Merlin, torn between fury and despair. "Stay with Gwaine," he yelled at Lancelot. "I'm going after Arthur."

The warlock rode _ventre a terre_ through the trees following the fading shrill sound of the gryphon. "_Draco!" _he yelled, as loudly as he could. "_Hiersumie me!"_ His eyes flashed gold, and magic pulsed like power through his body.

Moments later the great dragon dropped from the sky. Merlin pulled his startled horse to a plunging halt.

"You want the troublesome young Pendragon returned, I suppose," Kilgharrah asked, politely.

"Yes, I do want that," Merlin said, his nerves beginning to fray. "Alive would be good."

"I'll see what I can do." The great dragon rose into the sky, its wings making a great rushing sound. It hovered for a moment over Merlin then veered up and over the trees.

Merlin took several steadying breaths and patted his horse reassuringly on the neck. "Easy, boy," he murmured. He urged the horse into a gallop, and the two of them followed the general direction of the dragon.

Soon it became apparent that Merlin would have no trouble locating the dragon and its prey. Loud shrieks filled the forest, branches and clumps of leaves flew through the air, and animals began running from between the trees. Deer, rabbits, raccoons, and wild boar fled past him. Flocks of birds flew up into the sky. His horse became increasingly skittish, and it was all the dark-haired young man could do to keep his seat.

Shortly, the two of them emerged into a meadow, for the first time getting a clear view of the winged combatants. The great dragon was larger in size than the gryphon, but it was obvious Kilgharrah was hampered by its desire not to harm the prince. The gryphon had no such qualm. Arthur dangled limply, but hopefully alive, from the gryphon's talon.

The two magical creatures swooped and dove at each other, their screeching and shrill cries filling the skies with a raucous din. Merlin rode his panicked horse a little ways back into the forest and, dismounting, tied it to a tree. Leaving it, the warlock walked back to the meadow.

The gryphon seemed to understand that the great dragon wanted its human prey and, having enough, flung the prince into the air. Merlin watched breathlessly as Arthur fell from a height that would surely kill him. The warlock murmured a few words, and time slowed down as the prince tumbled from the sky. The gryphon made good its escape as Kilgharrah nimbly snatched the young man from the air.

With a great leathery flapping of wings, the dragon gently dropped the prince into Merlin's waiting arms. The warlock half-lowered, half-fell with him to the ground. Merlin pulled him against his chest, feeling the reassuring warmth of his body and the beating of his heart. Kilgharrah flew in a tight circle around the two of them, then landed nearby, watching them both with interest. Merlin was beyond caring.

The warlock was exhausted. He could feel most of the terror receding and the tightness in his chest loosening. His throat was dry; he badly wanted a drink of water. He felt overwhelmed by worry and responsibility. It seemed Arthur would be all right, but there was still the gryphon loose and lethal and threatening his mother's village. Also, he didn't know how badly Gwaine was injured.

Reaction was setting in, and Merlin was starting to feel sorry for himself. He was out in the middle of nowhere all by himself (conveniently ignoring one large dragon) with an unconscious prince. One large tear fell from one of his blue eyes. Several more followed. They rolled down his cheeks and splashed onto Arthur.

He badly wanted the warm, comforting presence of Gaius. The physician was caring and wise. Merlin was tired of being responsible for everyone and everything. He sniffed. No one was taking care of _him._

He heard a chuckle and looked up. Kilgharrah was watching him with an amused look on his face.

"What?" Merlin began defensively, then remembered he hadn't thanked the dragon yet. "Oh. I'm deeply grateful for your help. Without it, Arthur and possibly Lancelot and Gwaine would be dead. Thank you."

The dragon chuckled again.

"What in this situation strikes you as funny?"

"It's hard to believe that the destiny of all Albion rests in the hands of you children."

"If I was a child," Merlin said, bitterly, "I'd be having a lot more fun."

He carefully laid Arthur's limp body onto the ground. There was blood on the side of his face. He turned Arthur's head and noticed a cut under his long hair. It was no longer bleeding.

The warlock stood up, the dragon's eyes following him. He seemed to be waiting for something.

"I need to find Lancelot," Merlin said. "We still have a gryphon to deal with. Could you stay with Arthur until he comes to?" He eyed the dragon hopefully.

"Hmmm," the dragon said. "I have a better idea. Why don't I _deal with _the gryphon?"

Merlin stared stupidly at the dragon. He was more tired than he thought. "I think we'll go with your plan."

Elsewhere

Lancelot was running his hands over Gwaine's horse checking for injury. Gwaine was at a nearby stream with Lancelot's horse letting him drink water.

"We need to find Arthur's horse," Lance said.

Gwaine looked back at him. "We need to find Arthur."

"Merlin will find him."

"Are you being serious? If Arthur and, well, we, can't stop the gryphon, what chance does Merlin have?"

Lancelot started to reply, thought better of it. He continued checking the horse's legs. "He seems sound enough. How about you? You ready?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

Gwaine and Lancelot mount their respective horses and depart.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Arthur was sitting up, his arms on his drawn-up knees, holding his hands over his face. Merlin was standing a few feet away, holding the reins of his horse.

"The _dragon_ rescued me?" Arthur asked.

"Uh, huh."

Arthur looked up. "I swear, Merlin, if you're making this up -"

"I'm not."

"The same dragon that my father kept chained in the caverns below the dungeon?"

"The very same."

"Why would he help me? I'm sure he'd rather see me dead."

"Actually, he didn't seem to want that at all." Merlin patted his horse's neck. "If you're feeling strong enough to be left alone for a while, I'm going to ride over to Ealdor and get us another horse."

"We have no money. It's in my saddlebag, remember?"

"I'll tell them the gryphon is dead. They'll be happy to lend us a horse."

Arthur wanted to remind Merlin that he wasn't in charge, but he wasn't feeling very well, so he supposed that technically Merlin _was _in charge.

"We're still on King Cenred's lands so you'll need a weapon." Merlin pulled a knife from his belt and handed it to Arthur.

"That's all you have? A knife?" Arthur asked.

"That's one more weapon than you have," Merlin said, then regretted it. He did not want the prince dwelling on his recent ordeal.

"Maybe you should keep it."

"No," Merlin replied, waving off the offer. "I'm safe enough. This is where I was raised - my neck of the woods. Besides, I'm not the one Cenred would give a chest full of gold to capture." Merlin paused, frowning. "On second thought, maybe you should come with me. You can ride the horse and I'll walk."

"No, I'll be all right," Arthur said, touched by his servant's concern. "I'll rest and get my strength back while you're gone."

"Okay." Merlin took a flask of water from his saddlebag and set it beside the prince. He then mounted his horse and left.

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Arthur was sitting on a fallen log, idly drawing on the ground with a stick when the air around him seemed to change. It felt, _tasted_, cleaner, softer. There was a faint effervescent quality to it as if someone had opened a window or a door, and a breeze from the sea had swirled in. It encircled him and an unaccustomed feeling of well-being grew inside him. There was the faintest hint of music, distant and enticing. He looked up. In the fading light of evening, a silvery light began to glow in the forest. He heard giggling and whispers and running footsteps. Soon three young women appeared, all three with an unearthly beauty. They were dressed in gossamer gowns of pastel colors, their hair waist-length with tousled curls. One girl had hair as black as a raven's wing, one auburn-colored with golden streaks, and the third, hair so pale a blonde as to be almost white. They were laughing, and smiling, and, running toward him, tugging at his arms, pulling him to his feet. Fireflies played and darted around them. The music grew louder, weaving childish dreams, unfulfilled longings, and irresistible wanderlust into the musical notes. A faun appeared, half-goat, half-man, playing his pipe. He had small goat horns in his curly hair and an impish gleam in his eyes.

"Join us, your highness. Be our king," he said, trilling musical notes on his pipe.

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Merlin left Ealdor, riding the borrowed horse and leading his own. He had ridden just a little ways when he heard the great dragon's voice. "Emrys."

The warlock looked up in time to see Kilgharrah drop from the heavens in front of him. He calmed his frightened horses as best he could. "You need to seriously stop doing that," he said.

"And you need to get back to the prince," the dragon replied, without preamble.

"I'm doing that," Merlin said, perplexed and a bit annoyed. He had been expecting Kilgharrah to tell him about his battle with the gryphon and about the creature's demise. "Is it King Cenred's men? Have they found him?"

"Something far more dangerous to Uther's son," Kilgharrah said. "Magical creatures who want to pull him through a portal from which he can't return."

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The three young women ran and danced uninhibitedly, pulling Arthur with them, the ethereal beauty of their faces filled with rapturous joy. The prince felt euphoric, the music lifting the heavy burdens of human existence and expanding to fill all the empty places of his being. The loneliness, the wistful yearning for the mother he would never know, all vanished.

Watching the tumultuous scene from cover of the forest was Merlin, at once alarmed and intrigued. He had dismounted and tied both horses to a tree. The silvery glow had taken on the shape of a portal, and both the wood nymphs in their diaphanous gowns and the faun had moved noticeably closer to it. Arthur willingly followed them. Merlin spoke words from the old religion and a fallen branch levitated to trip the prince. He fell heavily onto his stomach, a puzzled look replacing the rapturous expression on his face. Merlin felt momentary regret, but he was left with no time.

Merlin spoke more words, and wild vines sprung from the earth. They grew rapidly in length and snaked their way across the ground toward Arthur, where they wrapped themselves around his legs and body, pulling him against the earth. The prince reached down with his right hand and fumbled for the knife that Merlin had given him earlier. He began hacking at the vines furiously.

The faun, sensing the presence of great power, stopped playing the pipe and searched the forest with his eyes, seeking its source, seeking _him. _

Arthur was steadily loosening the vines. The warlock spoke a third time, and a vine encircled his right wrist pulling his hand down and forcing him to drop the knife. The prince cried out in frustration and continued to try to free himself.

_Stop struggling, Arthur_, Merlin thought.

One of the nymphs, the girl with platinum hair, ran to Arthur's side. She bent down to touch him, her long disheveled hair falling about his face. Merlin wasn't sure if she meant to harm him or free him, but he took no chances. His eyes flashed gold and a strong wind blew up, propelling the girl toward the silvery light where she vanished. The warlock then extended his arm and guided the whirlwind against the faun and the two remaining nymphs. The three flew helplessly through the glowing portal.

"_Ado pas sawolduru!"_ The doorway shattered into a thousand shards of mystical light which flickered out. Left was only ambient light from a crescent moon and scattered stars.

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Arthur felt the vibration of footsteps. They stopped when they reached where he was lying. Someone knelt beside him and picked up the knife. Strangely enough, the prince knew without seeing that it was Merlin.

"Hold still, Arthur. It's too dark to see very well," Merlin said. He felt for the prince's right arm and held onto it while he cut through the vine. He wanted very much to conjure up the blue orb of light, but he supposed he could make do without it.

The prince seemed weary and disinclined to talk which suited Merlin just fine. He had neither the energy nor the desire to lie to his friend. Merlin helped Arthur to his feet then went and fetched the horses.

Elsewhere

Lancelot and Gwaine had been aware for some time that there were riders on their back trail. The two had climbed up a little ridge and dismounted, waiting.

Three riders were approaching, one of them leading a riderless horse. It was hard to see in the near darkness, but both of their horses, catching the scent of their stable mates on the wind, nickered.

"Who's there?" It was Guinevere's voice.

"Gwen?" Lancelot called. "Just a minute, we're coming back down."

The two knights made their way onto the trail. Now that they were closer, they recognized Guinevere's companions as Percival and Elyan. Greetings were exchanged.

"Where are Arthur and Merlin?" Gwen asked, worriedly. "Arthur's horse came back to the castle without him."

There was a small silence as Gwaine and Lancelot pondered how much to tell her. In the end, Lancelot decided to omit all details and keep it simple.

"We had a, uh, brush with the gryphon and got separated," he said. Percival and Elyan shifted in their saddles, clearly not satisfied, but they said nothing.

The five joined up and rode into the night to search. It was after midnight when they found them.

Both young men, exhausted and going on will alone, had slipped from their horses and fallen asleep almost immediately. The prince had managed to tether his horse; Merlin's horse was loose, nibbling grass near the young man's sleeping body. Neither of the two had taken time to pull out blankets against the night's chill.

Percival was disgusted. Arthur and Merlin had left themselves unguarded and unprotected, vulnerable to any enemy who happened by. "Lucky for them, we're the ones who found them," he grumbled.

Elyan caught Merlin's horse, then went to check Arthur's mount. On a thought, he looked around for their weapons. None with the saddles. He walked over to where the prince lay sleeping. "Percival," he said, in an undertone. "Do you see Arthur's sword?"

Percival, his curiosity piqued, peered closely at the prince. "No. That's strange." He walked over to Merlin and knelt beside him. The warlock had a knife.

"They don't seem to be heavily armed," Percival murmured.

Guinevere pulled out the gray cloak from Arthur's saddlebag and covered him with it while Gwaine found a blanket for Merlin. Elyan and Percival joined Lancelot in unsaddling the horses and setting up camp. They decided against a campfire, not wanting to announce their presence to any of Cenred's patrols.

The following morning

Arthur woke to wetness on the side of his face. He opened his eyes.

"Guinevere." Arthur smiled, drowsily.

The young woman was washing the dried blood off. "We came to rescue you," she said.

"And a great job you're doing of it." He reached for her and, pulling her against his side, he fell back asleep.

The End


End file.
